


Two Minutes Too Late

by cesau



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: About as gay as canon, Kidnapping, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 22:23:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10817964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cesau/pseuds/cesau
Summary: They've barely left Tellius when everything goes wrong.Or: The misadventures of Ranulf and Soren, grudging acquaintances on a quest to save their mutual friend, who makes for a terrible damsel.





	Two Minutes Too Late

War was not an easy thing, even for the best of fighters.

A good soldier could shine on the battlefield and push on through sheer force of will, but when the war was over, what did he have? Pride, maybe, or glory, if he was on the winning side.

When the opponent was god and the battlefield the entire world, it was hard to say anyone had won. They were all winners and they were all losers in a cosmic game that, in the end, cost them more allies and caused more hurt than any victory could heal.

But to the civilians, the innocent onlookers, the men and women who brought down the vengeful goddess were godlike themselves. And it was hard for them to imagine heroes like that, who had gone through the ringer and come out shining brighter for it, as anything less than perfect. It was hard for them to relate the hurt and the guilt and the suffering to the real people behind the selfless acts.

So Ranulf wasn't surprised when Ike decided to leave his adoring throng behind and set off for parts unknown. From the moment Ike set foot in Castle Gallia only months after the war had ended, Ranulf knew he was there to say goodbye. He could see it in the shadows of his eyes, his worn-down posture, the far-off look that just wouldn't go away, no matter who he was talking to.

Ranulf knew the signs; he could feel them all in himself.

But Ike lingered in the castle for three days, meeting with both the new king and the old and all his allies from the war. It wasn't until the last day that he finally admitted out loud that when he left, he had no intention of coming back.

“We'll go toward the desert, through Hatari,” Ike had explained. “There are supposed to be merchant caravans running that way now, so it shouldn't be too difficult to get through the sands. After that, we'll just...see what's out there, I guess.”

“Sounds like quite the journey. Is there room for one more?” Ranulf had asked, mostly joking. 

But Ike had brightened for a moment to his old self, smiled sincerely, and said only, “Of course.”

And that was an offer just too tempting to resist. 

-

Ranulf packed light and set off to meet Ike at the palace gates the next morning. When he saw Soren waiting there as well, he was surprised not by the man's presence, but the lack of any others. Not a single one of the others from Ike's mercenary group-turned-family were there.

“When you said you were heading out, I thought you meant more of a collective 'you',” Ranulf observed.

“The company will be fine without me,” Ike replied, somewhat defensively.

“I wasn't complaining,” Ranulf said. Honestly, if anything, he was flattered, though he wasn't quite sure what he'd done that Ike would rather travel with him than the people he'd more or less grown up with. Still, something in the shadows of his face told Ranulf he wouldn't want to talk about it, so he let the matter slide.

“And how's the famous strategist been these past few months, hm?” Ranulf teased as they walked. Where Ike looked lighter for his company, Soren predictably darkened, but Ranulf found that more amusing than offensive.

“Less busy than you, I'm sure,” Soren remarked. “Weren't you made an adviser to the king? I'm surprised they let you leave the country at all.”

“Ha, I think our friend here put it well enough: 'Gallia will be fine without me.'”

-

Leaving Gallia, they traveled north again through Crimea and then southeast into Serenes, at the center of which Ike was content to stop for a few days in the makeshift capital of the newly formed Bird Kingdom.

The air there was so peaceful and calm that for a moment, Ranulf wondered if their journey would continue at all. It certainly seemed to settle some of Ike's ever-present unease, and he smiled and laughed more easily than before when he spoke to the Hawk King and the White Prince. But when he walked among the people there, even the laguz looked to him with starry eyes and obvious awe.

After only two days, they were packed up again and ready to move out.

“You're really going then?” Reyson asked as they prepared to leave.

“I am,” Ike answered simply.

“I suppose that makes sense,” the heron said with a sad smile. “It might not show on your face, but your restlessness is obvious enough to anyone of my kind. Be well, Ike.” He dropped any pretense of formality and scowled then, adding, “And while you're on the desert roads, do us all a favor and clean up any scoundrels lying about. Rafiel insists he's going back to Hatari to be with his Wolf Queen, and I don't need to lose my fool of a brother again.”

“I'll keep an eye out,” Ike said with an honest laugh. With that, they were on their way once more.

-

After Serenes, it was east into Begnion, an unavoidable journey that Ranulf noticed left the other two on edge. Despite making a deliberate effort to avoid Sienne, they were only two days out when an envoy of the Holy Guard descended upon them with a summons to Mainal Cathedral.

Ranulf watched with some amusement as Ike clearly struggled not to simply tell the knight off and run the other way. Instead, displeasure obvious on his face, he agreed that they would make their way to the capital. He staunchly refused any travel assistance by way of pegasus, much to the knight's disappointment, and the three of them veered south.

The frequent sight of pegasi flying overhead made it clear they were being followed the whole way. When they did arrive in the capital, they were met almost immediately by another of the Guard and escorted to Mainal personally. There was a woman waiting in the main hall there, one Ranulf recognized from the first war. Sigrun, if he recalled correctly.

“It's an honor to see you again, Ike,” the woman said with a beatific smile. Ike relaxed somewhat at her plain address. Perhaps he'd been worried they meant to conscript him into some sort of military service again.

“I'd like to say the same,” Ike answered, “but I'm not exactly here by choice. Your knights are persistent, I'll give them that.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” Sigrun said. “If you'll follow me, the apostle would like to speak with you briefly. After that, no one will impede your journey.”

Ike shrugged and moved to follow her, Soren reluctantly trailing behind him. Ranulf stayed right where he was and grinned.

“If it's all the same to you, I think I'll just wait here,” he said. The others turned back to look, and Sigrun nodded her acceptance. Ike looked more than a little jealous of him right then. For a very brief moment, Ranulf almost thought Soren would try the same thing, but with the look of a man headed to the chopping block, he shook his head once and turned back to follow Ike. 

When the two of them returned a short time later, they both looked upset, and while Ranulf was curious, he was more grateful he hadn't been subjected to whatever had caused those twin expressions of irritation. Leaving the cathedral, Ike sighed and handed Soren a pouch of coins Ranulf was sure hadn't been there before.

“Dare I ask what the apostle wanted with you?” Ranulf asked on their way out. “Or is that just some sort of parting gift? Follow up question: do I get one, too?”

“It's payment for a job,” Ike said.

“Oh, are you still doing those? I thought you'd left the company.”

Ike managed a weak smile.

“Yes,” he said, “so did I.”

-

They traveled nonstop after that, east through Begnion and then north into the aptly named Desert of Death. It was a miserable few days pushing through the scorching desert air, at least as far as Ranulf was concerned. If Ike was bothered, he didn't show it. Soren, in spite of his bulky robes, seemed completely at ease in the awful heat – an unfair advantage of being a mage, apparently. He periodically pulled out a map that he marked as they journeyed, preferring to stare at that over participating in any conversation.

And of course it was nearly as bad at night, when the temperature plummeted and instead of sticky sweat he was shivering and covered in goosebumps. He took to spending the nights transformed, just because it was easier to stay warm that way. (This, of course, only after he had made a few jokes about the three of them sharing body heat that went right over Ike's head and made Soren even grumpier than usual.)

As time passed, Ranulf decided it was probably a very good thing he had tagged along on their little journey. Without his prompting, Ike and Soren both said so little, it was a wonder they weren't outright forgetting how to speak at all. 

Ike, at least, was easy to prod into conversation. Something as simple as, “Hey, what do you think about that?” and a nod in the direction of some unfamiliar sight could get him going. Soren, on the other hand, looked thoroughly exasperated at even the slightest nudge towards actual communication, and he usually defaulted to flippant insults.

“Shouldn't you be getting back to Gallia soon? I shudder to think of what your fool of a king has gotten up to in your absence,” he said after one such attempt.

“You know, you could probably go back in my place,” Ranulf joked. “Skrimir was quite taken with the little beorc strategist. And you're both about as well-versed in diplomacy.”

(Which was patently untrue, because even Skrimir was not that bad, but the lie was worth it for the horrified look on Soren's face.)

In any case, Ranulf took it upon himself to keep them from going totally mute, no matter how trying it could be.

-

Finally, they made it through the worst of the desert and into the kingdom of Hatari proper, a deceptively vast land centered around one fortuitously placed river and scattered oases. After traversing the outskirts of the kingdom for a week or so, they set up a temporary camp outside a border town while they decided where to go next, close enough that water wasn't a problem and far enough that they wouldn't bother or be bothered by any curious townspeople.

It was only hours after the sun came up on their second day there that a visitor stopped by. Barged in, more like, but she was only a child and clearly distressed, so Ranulf couldn't fault her for that.

“Please, you have to help me,” the little girl begged, blue eyes shining and close to tears. Her dusky skin, shaggy ears, and the wild tail curled behind her legs revealed her to be a wolf laguz, a common sight this far out in the desert. That she spoke the modern tongue was less common, but not entirely unheard of, and it was probably a blessing, judging by her urgent tone of voice.

“What is it?” Ike asked without hesitation.

“My mother,” the girl cried. “Please, you have to help her! She's sick and she needs medicine.”

“Where is she?” Soren asked, surprising Ranulf. But there was no gentleness to his tone. His cold demeanor actually gave the girl a moment of pause before she continued, warily this time.

“S-she's back in town, only an hour or so away,” the girl said. With a new burst of energy, she pleaded again, “Please help her, travelers! We can't afford the medicine ourselves, but we'll find some way to repay you, I swear. Please save my mother!”

“We don't have any medicine,” Soren said simply.

“Hey now, we have some, er...vulneraries?” Ranulf interjected quickly. “And can't you use staves? We have one of those, don't we?”

“A staff will be plenty useful after her mother's been cleaved with an axe or run through with a sword,” Soren said plainly. “It won't do a thing for illness. Neither will a vulnerary.”

“That's enough, Soren,” Ike said firmly. He asked the girl to wait a moment, then headed back toward their tent, his companions trailing after him.

“Come on, we can't just send her off like that,” Ranulf said.

“Why not?” Soren said. “There's nothing we can do for her. Besides, I doubt anything she's said is true. Look at her: why would she come all the way out here on the off chance of finding help? And her excuse isn't even convincing. She's a thief, plain and simple.”

“Perhaps,” Ike said, digging through his pack, “but I'd rather take my chances and play the fool than turn my back on a child.”

He pulled out two vials of elixir and a pouch of gold coins, then reached for his sword belt.

“I'll follow her to town and see what I can do,” he said. “You two stay here and watch the camp.”

“Ever the hero,” Ranulf joked, while Soren mumbled a sarcastic agreement. With a final wave, Ike left the camp, the little girl leading him by the hand.

-

When the sun began to set and Ike still had not returned, Soren became visibly agitated. He paced around their campsite, muttering to himself. Just watching him made Ranulf's skin itch, and he had to wonder what the mage usually did when Ike wasn't around. Hopefully not this, because yikes.

“I'm heading into town,” Soren announced suddenly, stopping in place at the edge of their camp. His back was turned but his shoulders were tense, and Ranulf could imagine the anxious look on his face well enough. He sauntered up beside him only to be met with a glare.

“He's fine,” Ranulf said. “It's Ike. What's the worst that could have happened to him? I'm sure he just got held up and decided to stay in town for the night. He'll be back in the morning.”

“He would have sent some kind of message. Something is wrong.”

Clearly there was no getting through to the man. Ranulf sighed and shook his head.

“If you're going to be that insistent about it, I'll go,” he said. At Soren's insulted look, he added, “Unless you've suddenly developed night vision, in which case, be my guest.”

“...Fine,” Soren said. “I'll watch the camp.”

“Fantastic. I'll be back with our errant friend before you know it!”

-

In Hatari, finding people who spoke the common tongue was hit-or-miss. It wasn't usually an issue with the wolf laguz at least, because Ranulf could just transform and communicate that way, but with the beorc or the (surprisingly common) branded, who only spoke the ancient tongue...well, it was an experience, anyway. Ranulf had picked up bits and pieces from the herons, and Soren could read and write in it, but neither of them was quite up to snuff when it came to conversation in the language.

It was just his luck that the nearest town had next to no laguz or common-speakers. By the time he got there, it was already dark, which meant the only people still awake were gathered at the pub. He spent an embarrassing amount of time swinging between tables in search of someone he could actually talk to, using vague hand gestures he made up on the fly. 

Finally, a very confused-looking man called something out, and a wrinkled old woman shuffled over. The two exchanged words Ranulf couldn't understand, and then the woman nodded sagely.

“Yes, yes, and who might you be?” she said, squinting at Ranulf. “And what do you mean by causing all this ruckus? You're confusing the poor, stupid young people.” She emphasized this by yanking the man's ear, and he responded with a vigorous shout, face going red. Language barrier or no, Ranulf guessed that was probably a curse.

“Just a traveler, and you have my apologies,” Ranulf said smoothly. “You see, I'm looking for a friend. He should have come to this town earlier today, but I haven't heard back from him since, and I'm trying to track him down. He's beorc, blue hair, fairly tall, obnoxious muscles...sound familiar?”

“Oh, that one. Ha, the girls have been talking about him all day,” she said, looking bored. “He left with some tough-looking men earlier. They didn't look to be a good sort at all. No, not at all. But he seemed a strong enough young fellow himself, so who knows how that turned out?”

“When you say he left...”

“Hm, well, maybe that's not the best word for it. It does imply there was some level of choice involved.”

She seemed very calm for a woman breaking the news of an apparent kidnapping, Ranulf decided. Distantly, he wondered how exactly he was going to share this information with Soren without the latter going off the deep end.

“So he was...escorted out of town by force, and no one thought to step in, is that it?”

“Eh, we don't exactly have guards here in a place like this,” she said with a shrug. “Those men are the ones who protect us from even worse sorts, usually, so it's not like we get anything out of upsetting them.”

“Of course,” Ranulf said. So there were slums in Hatari, too, and they just happened to set up camp right next one. Just his luck, really. “I don't suppose you know where they were headed?”

“Probably to the old fort east of here,” the woman said. “An abandoned military outpost from way back when. That seems to be their usual haunt, anyway.” She raised a brow and laughed shrilly. “Were you going to fight them all on your own? Ah, well. I'm sure they'd find a use for you, too. Good luck.”

She made no attempt to hide her sarcastic amusement, and Ranulf figured she was entitled to that much. She had a point, after all: he wasn't exactly equipped to take down an entire outpost. All the same...it wasn't like he had a choice.

-

Ranulf transformed and ran back to camp, grateful that the cool desert air was a little less intense once you got past the Desert of Death. As expected, despite the late hour, Soren was wide awake and waiting when he returned. He scowled when he realized Ranulf was alone.

“You were gone for hours,” he complained. “Where's Ike?”

“Apparently, he stumbled into a bandits' den,” Ranulf answered. “A few hour's walk from here, according to the villagers. If we get started at first light-” Soren was already headed back to the tent, muttering curses along the way. He returned moments later, a satchel over his shoulder and a tome in hand.

“...Or that's an idea, too,” Ranulf said. He scratched his head. “I feel like I'm being redundant here, but this is Ike we're talking about. I doubt it'll make much difference if we take a few hours to rest up before we set off on our epic quest.”

“Then stay. No one said you had to come along,” Soren said. Ranulf got the idea he was referring to more than just this little mission, and he sighed tiredly.

“Is that right? Ike might be forgiving, but I'd rather not see his reaction if he came back only to hear you'd gone and gotten lost in the desert while I was taking a nap.”

“Then I suggest we get moving,” Soren said, brushing by him. Ranulf was tempted to let him go, just to see how far he'd get before the encroaching darkness slowed him down, but that seemed a little cruel. And besides, they had the same goal in mind.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, transforming once again. “Follow my lead. I'll get us there in no time.”

-

It could only have been an hour or so before sunup when the shape of the old fort became visible in the distance. As they neared, Ranulf noted curiously that the thing was built just like beorc fortresses in Tellius, only with a different sort of stone. He wondered whether the designs had been around before the flood, or if the people here had come up with the idea independently. He broke the silence of the past few hours by asking Soren his opinion.

“Does it matter?” Soren said, but only after glaring at him in silence for an uncomfortable length of time. “It doesn't take much thought to build a wall when you're under constant attack. As for the actual design, the interior could be different, I suppose. There's no way to tell from this far off.”

“Is that so? Beorc forts always seemed the same to me. A few walls, a tower, a dungeon, maybe throw in a catapult or two. You mean to say there are variations?” As expected, Soren didn't respond to his teasing.

Soon enough, they were close enough to the fort that it was time to stop and discuss how they would proceed. The two of them stood there in the empty landscape, still hidden by the dark of the night. Even this close, however, Ranulf couldn't see any torches in the fort or hear any voices coming from it.

“So what's the plan?” he asked.

“We go in, find Ike, and get out,” Soren answered shortly, as if Ranulf had just asked a particularly stupid question.

“That's not very strategic for a strategist,” Ranulf joked. “What, you just want to rush in blind?”

“Of course not,” Soren answered with considerable offense. “Aren't... _laguz_...supposed to have heightened senses? Use them.”

Ranulf shrugged. “It's quiet, but it's also the middle of the night. They could just be sleeping.” He stopped and sniffed the air. “I can smell blood and metal, but we are talking about bandits here. They tend to reek of it anyway.” As an afterthought, he added, “It's been three years, and you still can't say laguz without flinching? Or should I be flattered that you said it at all?”

“We'll just have to get closer then. If there are any lookouts on the ramparts, I can strike them down with a wind tome, and then we can search the perimeter for a way in,” Soren said, ignoring him. “The walls are clearly crumbling. I wouldn't be surprised if we could walk right in without anyone noticing.”

He walked ahead with a purpose and Ranulf followed, shaking his head. It didn't really seem worth arguing the point. As they approached the fort, it turned out there were no lookouts and, much as Soren anticipated, a large crack along one wall made slipping into the interior yard simple enough. They paused before a door leading into the fort proper. 

Soren pulled out his tome and pushed the door open lightly, just enough to peek inside. Ranulf rolled his shoulders and tensed in anticipation of the coming battle, ready to transform at the first hint of a fight.

...Only it turned out there wasn't much fighting to be done. Evidently there had been, earlier in the day, judging by all the broken furniture and the blood, but all that was left by the time Ranulf and Soren burst in was a handful of terrified outlaws, most of whom dropped their weapons in terror before either of them could land a single blow.

“Mercy! Mercy!” one of the bandits cried in the common tongue, falling to his knees. To his comrades, he shouted, “I told you idiots we shoulda let him go! Now we got all these foreigners busting in here and wrecking our plans! I told you guys you was being stupid, but noooo, no one ever listens to old Sed, what does he know? I knew this, anyway, didn't I, you stupid sacks of-”

His protests were cut off and he let out a strangled shout as a focused burst of wind shot by his ear, cutting a few strands of hair clean off. Soren marched up to the kneeling man and said, icily, “Explain. Now.”

The sight of a roughshod bandit cowering in fear before such a diminutive man was both comical and pathetic. Ranulf sighed. Should he intervene? They were bandits, after all, and they had attacked his friend. They probably deserved it.

“I-I swear, I didn't do nothing to nobody! It was all the other guys, the ones who picked up that foreign monster! I told 'em, you know, let him go or kill him outright, cause I got a bad feeling here, but they didn't listen and now we're all gonna die, killed by foreigners no less! Please have mercy, please!”

Soren started muttering under his breath and the pages of his tome fluttered. A little concerned the mage was about to progress to outright murder, Ranulf sidled up and said in his most placating voice, “Now, now, let's all just take a moment to breathe. We're looking for our friend. Tell us where he is, and we'll just be on our merry way.”

“Er, well...that is, y'see-”

“This is pointless,” Soren said. “Perhaps I should cut out your tongue; you don't seem to be using it-”

“O- _kay,_ that's enough of that,” Ranulf cut him off. To the bandit, he advised, “You might want to start talking. I do believe you've upset him and, well, I'll be honest: I'm starting to lose my patience, too. Shall we try that again? ...Where is our friend?”

“Okay, okay,” Sed said quickly. “It's like this: ever since the trade routes opened up, there's been a real demand fer foreign bodies in the big cities. We thought yer guy was just another traveler, or else we never woulda gone near him! So we sent the kid out, and of course she only comes back with one of ya, shoulda seen that coming – _yeep!”_ He ducked his head as if anticipating a blow, but at this point, Ranulf had greater worries than the fact that all three of them had apparently been targeted. When he realized no blow was coming, Sed hesitantly continued.

“A-anyway, we locked him up when we got him back here, but he broke out and took down a dozen of our guys before we got him back in his cell. So when the traders came, we was only too happy to get him off our hands, y'know?”

“You...sold him? To slave traders?” Soren said incredulously.

“Well, we couldn't keep him here after that! They took him an' the others down to the market in Kanuni, I think.”

“Where is that? When did they leave?”

“It's a big city about a day's walk east, if you're fast. The traders prob'ly ain't even made it there yet.”

Soren briskly turned away from the man and started walking back to the entrance of the fort. Ranulf followed with a frown.

“And what about these guys? Are we just leaving them here?” he asked.

“Yes,” Soren answered.

“They're slave-trading bandits,” Ranulf said. “Shouldn't we do something with them?”

Soren favored him with a blank stare. “You were the one who didn't want to kill them,” he said. “Anyway, we don't have time for this. Let someone else deal with them; we need to find Ike.”

“You have a very specific sort of tunnel vision, don't you?” Ranulf said with a sigh. “Ah, well. Give me a minute to take care of this, and then we can get started on that.” 

As Soren left, Ranulf walked back to Sed. 

“You mentioned prison cells?” he asked. The bandit gulped and nodded nervously. Ranulf grinned. “Let's go check those out, shall we? We'll just let the villagers know where to find you, and they can decide what to do with you. That sounds fair, doesn't it?”

The bandit whimpered miserably. Ranulf counted it a win.

-

It took a great deal of persuasion, but Ranulf was able to convince Soren to stay the rest of the night at the fort. There was no way they could march a full day through the desert without getting at least a little rest, even Soren couldn't deny that.

At first light, Ranulf was rudely awoken by a boot nudging his side, and he was unsurprised when he blinked his eyes open to find Soren glaring down at him. They raided the bandits' store of preserved foods and took off, eating along the way.

After an hour or so, they came across a small village. Soren refused to stop, so they separated long enough for Ranulf to drop in and let the people there know about the bandits currently locked up in their own fort, and then he transformed and ran back out into the sands to catch up to the mage. He was fairly certain his presence hadn't been missed.

“The villagers seemed rather pleased about the bandits,” Ranulf said. “Ike wasn't the first person they tried to sell; Sed and his chums have been raiding that village for years. Or at least, I think that's what the villagers were saying. You'd be surprised to know that wolf laguz have accents when they growl! I was, anyway.”

“I'm more surprised you thought I'd care.”

Ranulf considered himself a pretty laid-back kind of guy, but even he was getting fed up with Soren's reticence. The rest of the journey to Kanuni was spent in stony silence.

-

In what Ranulf suspected was becoming something of a pattern, Kanuni was kind of a mess by the time they arrived that evening.

It was actually quite the grand place from a distance, tall spires and steep walls painting the otherwise flat landscape. The closer they got, the more it reminded him of Sienne's opulent palaces and cathedrals.

The illusion was shattered the moment they walked through the gates.

Everything was chaotic, people rushing wildly through the streets, market carts in disarray, the local guard trying desperately to restore some measure of order.

“Something tells me Ike was here,” Ranulf said. Soren pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

As they stood at the unattended city gate taking in the bizarre sight, a harried-looking guard came rushing up, shouting in the ancient tongue. At their blank stares, he switched over to surprisingly clear common.

“Halt! No visitors are permitted to enter the city today without a permit!”

“Is that so,” Ranulf said, tilting his head. “You seem to have quite the situation here. What happened?”

“An incident in the marketplace. None of your concern.”

“The slave market, perhaps?”

The guard flinched, then straightened his back in a too-rigid imitation of a professional soldier standing at attention. At that moment, another guard wandered by. He approached with an annoyed look.

“What's going on here?” the second guard said irritably.

“They're asking questions about the market,” the first mumbled in response. The second guard looked them over and sneered.

“Market's closed today. Not that you could afford anything there if it weren't.”

“And just what sort of wares are you selling? Not living bodies, I'm sure.”

“So what if we are?”

“You're saying slave trade is legal here?” Ranulf mused. “That seems unlikely, knowing the queen.”

“T-the queen?! Y-you're envoys of the queen?!” The first guard paled immediately. “Oh no, no, no,” he muttered to himself, “Oh, we heard she'd brought back foreigners, but we didn't...oh no, no, no...”

“Knock it off, you fool!” his partner screeched, thumping him on the back. “Of course they aren't! And what would the queen care about our dealings here, anyway? Those royals never cared for us before, and they're not about to start now. Besides, no one ever said we were involved in any slave trading. These two just jumped to that conclusion by themselves. Look around all you want: obviously you won't find any slaves here.”

Ranulf had no doubt of that. If they hadn't escaped in all the chaos, the remaining slaves definitely would have been hidden away by now.

“Lucky for you, we're not here on official business,” he said. “We're looking for a friend.” He gave them Ike's description and the first guard nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, cripes, that guy! He's the one who started all this mess in the first place! Yea, we had to get him out of the city before a full-scale riot started. He and some of the other sla-...er, folks from the market, took the road east of the city.”

“And you just let them go?” Ranulf asked, mildly entertained by the thought of Ike inadvertently leading a slave exodus.

“They raided the armory,” the second guard said, more than a hint of bitterness to his voice. “It was those idiot traders from the southtowns, bringing in a whole pack of gladiators all at once. You throw a bunch of pit fighters in the same room together without supervision, what do you think is gonna happen?”

“They break their chains and raid the armory?” Ranulf guessed. The guard scowled.

“We had our hands full just protecting the citizens in the marketplace,” he said. “We couldn't have done that and fought them off at the same time, so we let them go. Better than having them take over the whole damn city.”

“Oh, I'm sure.” The story was getting better with every detail. 

In any case, after learning they were involved with the man who had basically set off a riot earlier in the day, the guards were even more adamant about not letting them in, so the two of them circled around the city until they found themselves on the road leading east.

“The guards mentioned gladiators, but I suppose Ike wouldn't really be out place in a group like that,” Ranulf mused. Soren didn't respond, so he tried again.

“Who knows, maybe he'll have started a second mercenary company by the time we catch up.” Still nothing.

“On the bright side, if he's surrounded by pit fighters, he probably doesn't have to worry about bandits anymore.” Finally, Soren looked at him, expressionless.

“What were you going on about?” he said.

By this point, Ranulf knew what it looked like when Soren was ignoring him. This time, it seemed more like he honestly hadn't heard him speak. Was that what it looked like when Soren was distracted? Or maybe he was just tired; they hadn't had any real rest in close to two days now.

“What's on your mind?” Ranulf asked. Soren waited a long moment before answering.

“He went east,” Soren said. It was a simple statement, but his tone of voice gave some magnitude to the words. Ranulf had no idea what that meant.

“Mhm,” he said in response. Maybe if he just played along, the situation would resolve itself. Soren glared at him, apparently offended, but wasn't that always the case?

“Why would he take the east road?” Soren said. “He should have gone west, back the way he came...back toward our camp.”

“Maybe he just got tired of us,” Ranulf joked. He stopped at the completely stricken look on Soren's face, the most genuine show of emotion he'd ever seen from the man. He was so obstinate about shutting down everything Ranulf said, and _that_ was what he took to heart? It was by far the most implausible thing he'd rattled off yet! Goodness, there was codependent, and then there was Soren.

“That was a joke,” Ranulf backtracked quickly, hands up in an 'I-surrender' motion.

“You have a terrible sense of humor,” Soren muttered, expression shifting back to its neutral (perpetually angry) state. Ranulf relaxed again, status quo restored.

“Most people wait until I've broken out the cat puns to say that,” he quipped. “Have a little faith. You can ask Ike about his sense of direction when we catch up to him. He probably just got turned around. Heh, maybe there was a cat stuck in a tree, or a little old lady who needed help getting home.”

Miraculously, a small smile appeared on Soren's face, though it vanished so fast Ranulf honestly wondered if he'd imagined it. Too much time in the desert, he decided – now he was even seeing mirages.

-

They were lucky only to walk an hour or so before they came across the first outlying town with an inn willing to put up two strangers. Ranulf wondered at that generosity until he realized Soren had taken more than just food from the bandit stronghold. Not that he was complaining – the gold was much better served buying them a place to sleep, in his opinion.

Unfortunately, there was no sign of Ike in the town. Ranulf asked the innkeeper whether any strangers had been through and was told a few suspicious fellows had passed by earlier, but they'd been warded off by the fearful villagers.

“Trouble out west again, it seems,” the innkeeper said with a grunt. “Never seems to stop, and we're the ones who pay for it.”

“Isn't that how it always goes?” Ranulf agreed, just in the spirit of being friendly. If Ike had been part of that group (and he probably was), they must have gone on to the next town or set up a temporary camp along the road. He decided to keep that information to himself for now, lest Soren try to pull him back into the desert again tonight. What he needed right now was a good night's sleep. And whatever he might say to the contrary, Soren could use that too.

-

The next day, the two of them rose before the sun and set out again following the same road. Half a league on, Ranulf stopped and sniffed the air, familiar scents out of place in the arid landscape. Fire, smoke, and roasting meat.

“There's a camp nearby,” he said.

“I don't see anything,” Soren said skeptically. He was right, and that was odd.

“No, but it's definitely there. Maybe a little further on.”

They walked a while longer, but all around them was still only desert, no sign of people or a campfire. Then it seemed like the smell grew fainter, and he realized they'd passed it by, so they turned around until he caught it again.

“There's nothing here,” Soren protested as they stood in the middle of the desert road, miserably picking at his robes. Ranulf ignored him, squinting into the empty space along the road. On the horizon, the barest hint of the rising sun had appeared.

“That's curious,” he said finally, scratching his head. He pointed southeast. “There's definitely a camp that way. It could be the group Ike was with.”

Soren glared at him. “If you're wrong...”

“Then I'm sure you'll never let me hear the end of it. Let's go, shall we?”

They left the road and started southeast. Still, Ranulf couldn't see anything but sand, more sand, an occasional rock, just to spice things up...followed by even more sand. He was about to suggest they turn around when Soren tensed suddenly, fingers flying to the tome he carried in his satchel.

“Magic,” Soren said quickly. “Just ahead. They're hiding the camp with an illusion.”

Now that he mentioned it, Ranulf realized he'd broken out in goosebumps, the hair on his arms standing on end.

“Is that what that is?” he mused, staring at his arm. He shrugged. “Well, at least we know where we're headed now. Is there a magic equivalent to knocking on the front door, or do we just walk right in?”

His answer came in the form of an arrow zipping by his right ear. He noticed it just in time to avoid being hit, though he suspected it was only a warning shot anyway.

“Stay back,” a deep voice growled from the blank space in front of them. At once, the landscape seemed to shimmer and then melt, revealing a sizable, if ramshackle, encampment in the middle of a small oasis. Standing at its forefront was a tall, muscular man wielding a bow – a gladiator, if Ranulf guessed correctly. Two dozen more stood behind him, a mix of beorc and laguz and at least one obvious branded, each brandishing a weapon of their own.

Ranulf gazed to his side and was unsurprised to see Soren glaring daggers at the lot of them. Before he could get them both killed with a careless insult, Ranulf lifted his hands to show they were empty and smiled easily.

“Let's all just settle down,” he said as charmingly as he could muster, given the string of bad luck they seemed to be following the past few days. “We mean you no harm. We're looking for a friend, actually.”

The leader of the camp lowered his bow somewhat and narrowed his eyes.

“A friend? Out here?”

“Well, it was something of a stretch,” Ranulf admitted. “Although...you wouldn't happen to have come from Kanuni?” Oh, and the bow was raised again, that was lovely. “We're not from the city! Actually, I think you might know our friend. The guards there indicated he found himself in a little rebellion.”

He gave them Ike's description, something he was honestly starting to tire of, and the men finally began to relax and lay down their weapons.

“Oh, Ike,” the leader said casually. 'Oh, Ike' indeed, Ranulf thought. If the man had left Tellius intending to fade into obscurity, he was going to be sorely disappointed before long. Soren observed the entire conversation with a displeased expression, and he let out an irritated sigh.

“He's not here anymore, is he,” he said, deadpan.

“No,” the leader said. “He left with the little wolf girl not long after we made camp.” Ranulf thought back to that first morning at camp, the child who'd come by begging for help. The bandits had indicated she was one of theirs. Was Ike still traveling with her? And if so, why?

“Where did he go?” Soren asked.

The leader shrugged. “Are you...” he muttered something in ancient, a look of intense concentration on his face. “...Soren and Ranulf? He left a message for a Soren and Ranulf.”

“We are.”

“He said to tell Soren and Ranulf to go back to camp and wait for him there.” For once, Ranulf found himself glaring just as darkly as Soren, but before either of them could protest, the man continued, “And he said when Soren and Ranulf refuse, tell them he has gone to return the child to Rehema, and he will be back soon.”

“How far is Rehema?” Soren asked.

“It is the next big city along the trade road. Two days away, maybe. You are welcome to stay here while you wait-”

Soren was already walking away, and Ranulf was tempted to follow.

“Have we caused some offense?” the leader asked. Ranulf forced a smile.

“No, no, nothing like that. It's just been a very long couple of days.” And they were about to get longer.

-

By the end of the first day, Ranulf could feel a change in the air, and he knew they were nearing the great river around which Hatari flourished. Sure enough, the next day saw a more lively landscape than they had seen since they'd left Begnion, flecks of green and blue on the horizon, and larger and more frequent settlements along the road.

He was still a bit surprised at Rehema when they came upon it, though. It was a huge, gated city filled with an array of tall and sturdy buildings, some of which seemed even to sparkle in the sunlight. The frequent awnings over the structures and the odd, tall trees lent a splash of color to the land, and here the air was thick enough with moisture that he knew the river was just past the walls, even if he couldn't see it. He'd thought Kanuni was impressive at first glance, but it was nothing compared to this place. For one, the startling beauty didn't fade as soon as they stepped inside.

It was a busy city, for sure, citizens rushing by in flashy silks and weathered rags alike, well-armed guards stationed along the walls, merchants loudly hawking their wares. Soren looked distinctly uncomfortable about the crowd, and Ranulf would be lying if he said he felt otherwise. But he pushed back the weary feeling and focused instead on how they would find Ike in all this commotion.

He started with the gate guards, then the city guards, who alternated between annoyance and amusement that they might recall a single face among the visitors to the city. Ranulf chose to take that as a good sign; at the very least, it meant Ike hadn't wandered into any _more_ ridiculous situations.

In the end, they found the little girl first, creeping among the stalls of the marketplace.

“Isn't that-” Ranulf began, nudging Soren with his elbow, when the wolf-child turned and saw them. Her eyes widened, she took a sharp breath, and then she turned and ran, tail tucked between her legs. Soren took off after her immediately, and with a sigh, Ranulf did the same.

They had only chased her around a few dusty street corners when she dove for cover behind a man's legs, ducking her head out only to growl pitifully. Even with his back turned, Ranulf recognized the man right away, tattered cape and all. Ike turned to face them, looking no worse for the wear, in spite of the journey he'd apparently been on.

“Ike!” Soren said breathlessly, hurrying over to his side. “Are you well?” Ignoring the child completely, he inspected the other man for any sign of injury. Ike endured his ministrations with a bemused smile.

“I'm fine, Soren,” he said. “What are you two doing here?”

“Oh, you know, just taking in the sights,” Ranulf said, sauntering over. “What do you think? We heard you were kidnapped and foolishly decided we ought to do something about it. You know, we staged a daring rescue and everything. It's a shame you missed it, it was really quite impressive.”

“You have my apologies,” Ike said with a grin. At his side, the little girl growled again, and he ruffled her hair gently. “Relax, Nadi,” he said. “They won't hurt you.”

Soren looked at the child with such contempt that Ranulf wondered if that assurance hadn't been premature, but the mage made no move to engage her. He looked to Ike instead and said, “Why is that...child...here?”

“She's looking for her brother, and I told her I'd help.”

“You have no obligation to help her with anything. You realize she was working with those bandits, yes? She's hardly innocent.”

“She didn't have a choice,” he protested.

“She had you abducted!”

“They weren't feeding her,” he said, as if this explained everything. Soren sighed.

“Ike, you can't save every starving child,” he said.

“I don't know,” Ike answered with a grin. “My record's been pretty good so far.” Soren reddened and turned away, apparently uninterested in contesting that point. Ranulf decided that was as good a time as any to step in.

“That is terribly chivalrous of you, Ike, but where exactly is her brother?”

The little girl tugged at the edges of Ike's coat as he said, completely nonchalant, “Nadi says he's a pit fighter here.”

“Uh-huh. So...what? Were you planning another slave revolt? Because I have to say, two in one week might be pushing your luck, and the guards here look a little more organized.”

Ike frowned. “What? No. I-”

“Doroon's not a slave!” Nadi cried suddenly. “Take it back!”

“Of course,” Soren muttered. “I'm sure all of the pit fighters signed on to fight to the death of their own accord, just for the enjoyment of it.”

“Actually,” Ike began. Soren's eyes widened very slightly before he fixed Ike with a stern glance.

“No,” he said simply.

“It's already done,” Ike said. “Look, I was watching some of the fights yesterday. It's nothing I can't handle, and I'll only need to fight a few rounds anyway.”

Soren turned his head down, clearly unhappy, but he didn't argue. Ranulf wasn't exactly pleased with the idea of seeing their friend thrown into an unfamiliar arena either, and he wondered if he should say something.

“Enlighten me,” he said finally. “How exactly do these fights work?”

“It's simple one-on-one combat,” Ike said, looking relieved at the change in topic. “Spectators place their bets, two combatants go in, they fight until one of them surrenders-”

“-or dies,” Soren muttered.

“...or that,” Ike continued. “The winner moves on to the next round, and so on, until they face the reigning champion. Nadi's brother isn't very high up on the rung. I only need to get close enough to talk to him, and then we can both surrender and get out of there.”

“So what, they just let you leave?” Ranulf asked.

“There's a fee, but it's nothing I can't afford,” Ike said. He lifted up a small pouch that seemed to be filled with coins. “I placed some bets yesterday.”

“I helped,” Nadi insisted, finally leaving her shelter behind Ike's legs. She placed her hands on her hips proudly. “I know a lot of the fighters from Doroon. I can guess who will win and who will lose.”

“That so?” Ranulf said, grinning. “Pretty impressive for a little lady like yourself. How do you think they'll fare against Ike here?”

Nadi tilted her head to the side as if thinking, then grinned widely. “Ike will win, of course. I saw him fight in Kanuni. ...Except maybe against Doroon. My brother is very strong!”

“I'll take your word for it,” he said with a laugh. “Say, Nadi, weren't you looking for something in the market earlier? Why don't you go find that while we catch up with Ike?”

She nodded and took off in the direction of the market. As soon as she was out of sight, Ranulf let the smile fall from his face and he looked at Ike.

“Is she telling the truth?” Ranulf asked. “Is it really going to be that easy to get her brother out?”

“I don't know,” Ike admitted. “There's no way to get to the fighters outside of becoming one. She says he's not a slave, but...well, there's no denying most of those people would rather be anywhere else.”

“And what if he _isn't_ there by choice?”

“Then I'll figure something out.”

“Alright,” Ranulf said. At Ike's surprised look, he shrugged. “You're obviously set on this, so I won't argue the point. Anyway, there was something else I wanted to ask you about the girl.”

“What is it?”

Ranulf grinned. “I wonder...does she remind you of anyone? A cheerful, strong-willed, blue-eyed girl...fighting to help her big brother...she sounds familiar, doesn't she?” Ike looked away, a faint blush rising on his cheeks, and Ranulf laughed.

“I would have helped her anyway,” Ike insisted.

-

They found an inn easily enough, and the next morning, all four of them set off for the arena, a huge, circular structure in the center of the town. They saw Ike off at the entrance, Ranulf with a grin, Soren with barely masked concern, and Nadi with open hope, and then they found a seat among the spectators in the upper levels of the building.

Evidently, arena fighting was a popular event in Rehema, judging by the almost stifling crowd. They pushed their way as close to the front as possible, Ranulf carrying Nadi on his shoulders. That close, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the first match began and the girl let out a loud whoop of delight right over his head.

“A little warning next time, yea?” he said with a weak laugh. 

She patted his head in what he thought to be a condescending manner and said, “It will be much louder soon. Shall I cover your ears?”

She wasn't wrong. At the end of the first match, which went to a huge man wielding a spear, the crowd let out a deafening roar, next to which Nadi's cheers were practically whispers. The second match began, and on one side, a tiny man wandered out, practically shaking, hand inexpertly gripping a broadsword. One look, and it was obvious to Ranulf that this fighter, if he could even be called that, had not entered the match through any choice of his own.

His entrance was met with jeers and laughter from the crowd, and his opponent, a trained swordfighter, spent a good minute simply taunting him before he made any serious moves. Then, with only a few quick swings, he had the man backed up almost to the wall. Forgoing his sword entirely, he landed a blow to the man's midsection. As he fell, the fighter picked up his sword once more. While his opponent struggled to crawl to his knees, the fighter favored the crowd with a cocky grin, and then in one swift motion, he thrust his blade clear through the man's ribs.

The crowd cheered even louder than before, and Ranulf suppressed a grimace. To his right, Soren was looking away from the scene impassively. Ranulf glanced up at Nadi and was surprised to see the open delight on her face. Then again, she spoke as if she were intimately familiar with the arena, so perhaps she was only desensitized to this sort of scene.

After the unwilling fighter's body was cleared away, the next challenger entered: a wolf laguz who transformed as soon as he stepped through the gates. Nadi gasped her brother's name, fingers clenching in Ranulf's hair. He winced and reached up to relax her grip, and she looked down at him apologetically.

“That's my brother,” she said. “That's Doroon. ...He will win, though, so don't worry.”

She turned out to be right. His opponent was another untrained, probably unwilling, man, though Doroon at least offered the man a chance to surrender. Though the crowd seemed less pleased, Ranulf was grateful for it.

The next match was where Ike made his debut, and Ranulf felt almost nostalgic at his friend's old, familiar sword stance. He found himself trying to predict Ike's movements before he made them, based on the way he'd seen him fight in the past. Fortunately, it quickly became clear that Ike hadn't overestimated his own abilities – in both that fight and his next, he easily outmaneuvered his opponents, both of whom surrendered quickly.

Finally came the match between Ike and Doroon. Before the match properly began, Ranulf thought he saw Ike's posture change slightly, and he assumed he was trying to engage his opponent in conversation, though it was impossible to hear anything he said. But whatever it was, it apparently hadn't worked, because Doroon lunged at him the instant the match started.

Ike immediately switched to a more defensive stance, sidestepping the laguz's quick strikes. At one point, he used the broad side of his sword to deflect the swipe of a heavy paw, which sent him stumbling backward. Quick to recover, he rebounded and used his forward momentum to push his opponent back. Still, something in his stance was off, and Ranulf realized he was going to great efforts to avoid actually landing a solid hit. When he finally managed to push Doroon back against a wall, he pinned him there for a long moment, probably trying to speak to him again.

And that time, it must have worked, because Doroon transformed again suddenly, standing weaponless at swordpoint at the edge of the arena. Satisfied, Ike dropped his own weapon in surrender. A baffled announcer called it a draw, and the crowd let loose with a series of disappointed jeers and insults.

“Let's go,” Soren said, looking and sounding exhausted.

“Gladly,” Ranulf answered. He let Nadi down from his shoulders and she took his hand, and the three of them left the crowd as the next match began.

In the time it took for Ike to leave the arena, Ranulf had actually started to worry that something had gone wrong. But before he could act on that concern, he and Nadi's brother both hurried out the front gate, followed by an angry yell of, “And don't come back!”

“I take it that went well, then,” Ranulf joked.

“It could have been worse,” Ike said. Doroon glowered at him.

“This is my job,” he complained. “What am I meant to do now?”

“Take it up with your sister,” Ike answered with a shrug.

Up close, Ranulf was surprised to see Doroon actually looked quite young, even for a laguz. And given that his sister was clearly still a child, he guessed the brother wasn't even an adult yet. He certainly had the look of angry teenage rebellion about him, anyway, though it fell away the instant he caught sight of his sister.

“Doroon!” Nadi cried, running to embrace him at once. He returned her hug affectionately.

“Nadi, what is the meaning of this?” he asked. She launched into a detailed explanation of how she'd come to be there, from her time with the bandits to her first meeting with Ike, all the way to present events.

“And it's all your fault, you know,” she chided her brother. “If you hadn't gone off to the arena in some silly quest for glory, I never would have gotten in trouble searching for you!”

“I told you not to worry about me,” he protested.

“That doesn't make it okay!” Nadi cried. “You're my brother, of course I'll worry! How would you feel if I just took off one day, and you didn't even know where I was or if I was okay?!”

“I see,” he said. Looking vastly more apologetic, he turned to Ike and bowed his head. “I apologize for the trouble my sister has caused you, and I thank you for bringing her to me.”

“Uh, sure,” Ike said, looking uncomfortable. “Just...look after her from now on.”

“Yes,” Doroon said. “I will be sure to do that.”

After a brief discussion, Doroon announced that he and his sister would head toward the capital to inform the queen of the situation along the borders of her kingdom. The queen's presence was virtually unknown in the outskirts, but with the honorable way Ike and Ranulf spoke of her, Doroon declared, it was well worth the effort to contact her for help. After a final farewell, the siblings took off on their own.

“That certainly was an adventure,” Ranulf said as they left. “And I suppose we should continue with our own. So where are we off to next?”

Soren rifled through his satchel once, then paused and did so a second time in a much more frantic manner. Hands coming up empty, he blanched. “It's not here,” he said to Ike. “The map is missing.”

“Huh. Well, hey, it's not that big a deal, right?” Ranulf said. “We can always buy another one. I'm sure there's someone in the marketplace selling maps.”

“None in relation to Tellius,” Soren said, starting to look almost sick. “I was marking that map on commission from the Apostle. It would have been the first of its kind.”

Was that the job she'd contracted them for back in Begnion? Ranulf had forgotten about it entirely.

“So we'll go back and get it,” Ike said, as if it were that simple. Soren gave Ranulf a pointed look, apparently unwilling to correct Ike himself. Ranulf sighed.

“The camp's been unattended for a week now,” he said. “Close to two by the time we get back. Unless the whole country's filled with saints – and I think by now we've realized otherwise – there's probably nothing of it left.”

Ike shrugged. “Sanaki gave us a job. It's worth checking out, anyway.” He paused. “Besides, it's not like we're in a hurry to go anywhere else.”

-

Ranulf honestly wasn't expecting there to _be_ a camp when they got back. The only thing more surprising than its continued existence, then, was that they apparently returned at the exact moment someone decided to rob it. As they approached, it was obvious what little they'd left behind had been moved about, and they could make out voices coming from inside their tent.

“Well, that's some timing,” he quipped.

“Great,” Ike said sarcastically. “I was almost getting sick of fighting bandits.”

With a heavy sigh, he went to draw his sword, but at that moment, one of the people inside the tent emerged. They'd have to have been much farther away not to notice the huge wings on the person's back. As close as they were, they could make out his youthful face, too.

“Oh, hey, there you guys are,” Janaff called brightly, giving a friendly wave and rocking back on his heels. “We were starting to think something happened to you.”

Behind him, Ulki and Rafiel emerged from the tent, the former as stoic as always and the latter looking immensely relieved.

“You have no idea,” Ike muttered. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Are Tibarn and Reyson around too?”

“Nah, just us three,” Janaff answered. “Ulki and I are escorting Rafiel back to the Wolf Queen. We passed by your camp earlier and Rafiel insisted we stop. He thought something was wrong, so we looked around a bit...I thought some of this stuff looked familiar. Lo and behold, it was your camp!”

“I don't suppose you came across a map in there?”

“I try not to poke my nose where it doesn't belong,” Janaff answered with a shrug.

“I'll go look for it,” Soren volunteered, looking all too happy for an excuse to move away from the company of laguz. He emerged moments later, parchment in hand, visibly relieved.

“Well, that's that taken care of,” Ranulf said brightly. He turned to the hawks. “So unless there's anything else...”

Ulki cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Hm, Ranulf,” he said in his oddly quiet voice. “Before we left, the Lion King requested we deliver this to you.” Ulki handed him a finely sealed scroll, far from the sort of thing he ever really imagined Skrimir wasting time on. He opened it curiously, then couldn't suppress a laugh at the contents.

“What is it?” Ike asked.

“I've been recalled back to Gallia,” Ranulf said. “A shame, really. We were having such fun, getting kidnapped, roaming the desert, fighting bandits. I hate to give that up.”

“Is something happening back home?” Ike asked immediately, eyes narrowed. So he still thought of Tellius as home, did he? And what was with that worrisome face? Ranulf decided even time couldn't cure Ike of his chronic hero complex.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Ranulf assured him. “Only I may have forgotten to tell the rest of the king's council where I was going, and they just recently found out.”

“Wait – you didn't tell anyone you were coming with us?”

“I told Skrimir. He didn't seem to have a problem with it.” He paused a moment. “To be fair, I don't think he really understands what my job is supposed to be.”

“How surprising,” Soren remarked dryly. Ike only looked baffled.

“What exactly does he think an adviser is, then?”

“I'll be sure to ask when I get back,” Ranulf said. “And don't you go too far while I'm gone. When I've got this all taken care of, we'll be meeting up again. You won't be rid of me that easily.”

“I'll hold you to that,” Ike said with a grin. Soren turned away with a trademark scowl.

“Last chance to tag along back to Gallia and have your dream job working for Skrimir,” Ranulf teased. He couldn't resist the chance for one last parting jab. That would just be unlike him.

“Don't go poaching my crew,” Ike said with a frown. Ranulf laughed, mostly at how obviously pleased Soren was by the statement.

“You, my friend, look like the cat that got the canary,” he couldn't help but say to Soren (and then immediately dodge out of arm's reach of either man, because it wouldn't be the first time he was hit for making a bad cat joke). “Anyway, Ike, he's not exactly your employee anymore, is he? Can't blame me for trying.”

“He's not going anywhere,” Ike said confidently.

“No,” Soren agreed quietly, “he's not.”

“Would that I could say the same,” Ranulf said with a dramatic flourish. “Well then, until next time.”

“Sure,” Ike said. He seemed to be carrying on some internal debate for a moment before he added, “Ah, do me a favor? If you get the chance, stop by the fort and check on Mist for me.”

“Of course,” Ranulf replied. Privately, he thought of Nadi and her brother, and he wondered if they had anything to do with this sudden request. “Any special message? Or should I just regale her with the story of her big brother's cross-country kidnapping?”

“Please don't,” Ike said, making a face. “Just tell her...tell her everything is fine, and I hope she's well. ...Tell her that I'll write her soon.”

“Solid advice. But if you say you'll write her, see to it that you actually do. I'd hate to be made a liar.”

“She's my sister,” Ike said decisively, crossing his arms. “I'll write.”

“And there's the last of my excuses to delay,” Ranulf said dramatically. “I suppose I really ought to be going now. Don't forget: I will be back, so don't go far.”

He rolled his shoulders and with a final parting wave, transformed and started the long journey back to Gallia. He spared a last look over his shoulder at the makeshift camp in the distance, where he could just barely make out the forms of his friends, and he smiled.

After all, he wouldn't be gone long.

**Author's Note:**

> The letter: 'Ranulf: It has been brought to my attention that the king's adviser is meant to be at the king's side. You did not tell me this. Uncle keeps calling me a fool. Please return at once. P.S. Giffca says hello, and he would like a word with you about professional responsibility (whatever that means).'


End file.
